Neither of them have a practical bone in their body, whereas I have always been a sort of Robinson Crusoe at furnishing up desert islands.
"So I proposed to these two castaways that we go in together and make a home to suit ourselves.

We were so dead tired of boarding.

About that time we picked up Henry, and as Henry has a noble bank account we went into the project on a more lavish scale than we could have done otherwise." "_Henry!_" ejaculated Phil, who was watching the silhouette against the window with evident pleasure.
"Yes, Miss Henrietta Robbins, a bachelor maid of some--well, I won't tell how many summers, but she's 'past the freakish bounds of youth,' and a real artist.

She's studied abroad, and she's done things worth while.

That group of fishermen on the Normandy coast is hers," nodding towards the opposite wall, "and that old woman peeling apples, and those three portraits.